


A Lady's guide to uniforms and dragons

by Whrain



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Laurence, Genderbending, fem!William Laurence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whrain/pseuds/Whrain
Summary: Laurence just wants to keep her life in check.Temeraire wants Laurence to wear dresses more often.The outcome? Utter chaos.
Relationships: Napoleon Bonaparte/William Laurence, William Laurence/Jane Roland, William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay, William Laurence/original character
Comments: 17
Kudos: 116





	1. Pearls

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going but since starting the books I have a bunch of headcanons for a female Laurence, trying and failing to keep her gender secret soooo have fun with my weird imagination.

„I look like a china doll.”

“Well. I think you look stunning, Laurence”, Temeraire mumbled sounding a little unsure of himself, as if he feared he might accidently give insult.

He was resting his head on his forelegs, enabling him to look in the mirror, which Laurence mother had placed for her in the clearing, accompanied by a whole shop’s worth of rugs and enforced the promise that Laurence would send Claris – her mother’s handmaiden - for her father’s valet, who was supposed to bring the carriage, so she wouldn’t ruin her new dancing shoes.

Which would have been perfectly sensible, if any horse in its right mind could be persuaded to get anywhere near the twenty-ton Celestial curiously eyeing the sparse jewellery in her possession.

A simple assembly of pearls was adorning her neck, while another pair of pearls surrounded by small sapphires, twinkled in her ears.

It was rather convenient that earrings were common enough among sailors, so that no one had drawn any compromising conclusions, except that her time as midshipman had been somewhat curious. After she had been promoted, no one had dared to inquire any longer, which made it a little strange to have Temeraire glare at them as if they were Midas golden hand.

“They are a match to my collar.”

“That’s why I bought them, my dear.”

“Oh”, his ruff bristled, he looked very pleased, “They suit you very well. And maybe you might wear them more often?”

“I fear that won’t be possible”, she declared firmly, even though she had to admit that they were indeed lovely.

“But why? The aerial corps does permit female captains and I’m sure you would at least be, as pretty as Harcourt! Lily would be so jealous.”

“I have already made up my mind about this. All I can ask of you is to respect the decision I made.”

She spared a nervous glance at the handmaiden, after all the corps own indiscretions were not publicly promoted.

But Claris was standing far out of earshot, even for a dragon’s standards.

Laurence doubted that she would be able to see her beckoning for her ride, which was well enough since she didn’t exactly look forward to the impending festivity.

Their victory over the French invaders at Dover, had brought Laurence, well Captain Laurence, a constant stream of invitations to banquets and minor events.

With the family name suddenly on everyone’s tongue, people started to inquire after his cousin, Lord Allendale’s only daughter who had went from boarding school, straight to the position of a governance for a Spanish relation.

She wasn’t sure if the girl she would be talking about all evening did even exist or if her father had found some peasant girl unfortunate enough to play the part of his estranged, unwed daughter.

After all he had already cooked up a cousin, who he had adopted into his own household after poor William Laurence’s parents had been wrested by a terrible outbreak of the pocks in the eastern colonies.

It wasn’t like Laurence particularly disliked attending to her live as Willow, after all a well-versed woman in her slowly fading prime who was a mystery at best and a scandal for most of her married lady friends.

Acquaintances she had kept in touch with through letters. She had made up stories about the education of a girl she did not know and told stories about luckless Spanish suitors who had luckily lost interest in her.

It had been an amusing pastime while at sea and the risk of the letter’s discovery was relatively slim, considering that no crew member was suicidal enough to try and steal personal correspondence from their captain.

It _had_ become a problem once she and Temeraire reached Dover covert and she was met with the unusual customs of the aviators. So her letters had become sparse, were mostly written in the relative privacy of Temeraire’s wings and she always made sure to deliver them personally to the curriers so no one would notice the odd addressor.

Besides those small obstacles, her new life didn’t require as much external occupation as her old one. While a captain in the Navy might have yielded the deck on a good day to his first officer, an aviator spent those hours with his dragon, which again was no reason to complain, for Temeraire was a lovely conversationalist and the other Captains were surprisingly pleasant company.

The only serious problem arose when Temeraire discovered that Laurence hadn’t merely forgotten to mention her gender but was deliberately hiding it.

They had reached somewhat of a parley on this topic until the invitation of her parent’s had forced her to go shopping for a decent dress.

Which was as she had to admit also quite to her liking. Her mother had sent her some sketches, mainly to inform her of the lovely things currently fancied by the other Ladies.

Fancies that proofed to be surprisingly comfortable gowns and with her own finances greatly improved by seizing Temeraire from the French, she had decided that a little embroidery on the hem and around her hips, wouldn’t hurt.

The gown was of a dark blue colour, matching the scales tipping Temeraire’s wings and composing a nice contrast to the silver stitching along the sleeves.

It wouldn’t make it any easier to fit in but while she wouldn’t have thought twice about buying a new coat at the same prize, she was somewhat stingy about paying for a dress she did not like.

Luckily, she adored this one.

Temeraire seemed to agree, a soft cooing noise escaping his throat, when she twirled around sending her skirts flying.

A reaction that brought a fond smile onto her painted lips.

“Now my dear, do you deem me presentable?”

She curtsied, to the dragon’s great delight, before finally waving to the maid to incline that she was quite ready to go.

Claris obviously relieved to be no longer required, practically ran off towards the manor.

“Oh you are so beautiful, Laurence”, Temeraire marbled somewhat of a greedy gleam in his eyes, “And you are sure I shall not accompany you? Not even to the front door? I’m certain I could carry you there much faster than any coach.”

“And utterly ruin my hair in the process”, she scolded mildly, nervously fingering the elaborate wickerwork that had managed her scandalously short hair into something resembling a proper headdress.

With Claris keeping her fair distance from Temeraire she had been left to administer to herself, with only a dragon to guide her hands and even though the result was tucked nicely and felt as it ought to, she was still worried that she might have accidently managed her golden locks into a sailors knot.

“But at least I could present you before the guest, isn’t this my duty as your companion?”

“Not quite. But I promise I will read to you from that French poetry book you seem to fancy.”

“Can you read to me while wearing that dress? I find it highly unfair that all these strangers shall get to see it, but you intend to change once it should be my turn.”

A statement delivered sulky enough to make her laugh, “Of course my dear, I may even keep the earrings until we reach your clearing in Dover. Now will you promise me to behave, until I return?”

“You will scream very loudly if anyone should try anything unpleasant?”, he returned.

“You did not make such inquiries while I was wearing my uniform.”

“Well you are carrying weapons while in uniform and I have noticed gentlemen aren’t staring as rudely at you as they do with the poor girls in dresses, so I suppose it has something to do with the lack of trousers. Which is very strange, but still, you will scream?”

“Like a banshee.”


	2. Sapphire eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kindling of old flames is more common than one might think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two of putting Laurence in pretty dresses and making everyone swoon over her... just like in canon only more obvious.

“You look absolutely stunning, love”, her mother commented once the women had retreated into a more private sitting room, while the men were sharing cigars next door.

Laurence wouldn’t have minded one herself but considering the guestlist she couldn’t afford such unladylike manners, even though not many of the guest would have been surprised considering Willows most discussed vagrant life.

When she was younger, she once had made the mistake of telling a - at this point - close relation about her experiences in the West Indies thinking the young lady worth of her trust, only to be nearly ratted out by her.

To prevent her discovery she had come up with the explanation that she had fled boarding school for a trimester to travel the world disguised as a merchant’s daughter and that the addressee may keep this information from his Lordship.

Of course salon gossip had travelled faster than her third letter, reassuring the young Lady of her save return to the boarding school in Denmark and therefore this alleged trimester had become a time full of speculations, including her associating with rough sailors, eastern merchant sons and nearly marrying a prince of India.

Hence her taking to cigars wouldn’t be as scandalous as one might thing, but since her father hadn’t been past assuring her compliance during the stay, there was a handful of officers in attendance, which she did not closely relate to but knew well enough to be worried about.

British society had a way of only seeing what they wanted to see, so Lord Allendale’s dressed up daughter did not remind any of them of a Navy acquaintance they may or may not have shared a table with.

But a broad-shouldered Lady smoking a cigar?

That was something worth noticing, if one was especially keen on asking questions or bored enough to mind.

Therefore she was forced to stick with the tight set of rules keeping Ladies of her social standing in check and she found herself longing for her bottle green coat and a decent glass of brandy.

“Thank you, mother”, she smiled, none the less pleased that her mother would take a liking to her choice of clothing.

Though a very loving mother in comparison to others of the same standing and a most understanding one in every regard, she was infamous for holding high standards towards the young women attending her events and even though it was a notion most likely born by the duty of finding her eldest son a suitable match, it also meant that the same standards had to apply to her own daughter who in most eyes was a disgrace for such a fine Lady.

Placing a hand on Laurence forearm Lady Allendale led them towards a seating near the fire.

“I apologize for having brought you in such an uncomfortable position during dinner, but he quite insisted on it.”

If she meant her father or Jonathan himself, she didn’t elucidate, however her words seemed comfortingly genuine.

Laurence had been seated next to Captain Jonathan Reid, a highly regarded Marine who’s clear interest had drawn countless jealous glances from the young ladies considering themselves a fitter match.

Laurence would have passed the gauntlet and given them her best wishes at any time but sadly Jonathan was a close acquaintance to both Willow and William Laurence.

They had served and even danced together at a time where she fancied to be able to have both, being of service to king and country and having a significant other who might welcome her whenever she was on leave.

With Jonathan it seemed too good to be true. A gentleman son, born to a fine family, sharing her political and social views and after some adjustment he didn’t seem to mind her … chosen way of living.

But after she had earned her own command on board of the Reliant he became insistent of her withdrawal from the service, seemingly of the believe that she had proven her point and therefore ought to be satisfied with becoming his wife, bearing his children and guarding his handsome estate, which he had acquired before proposing, as if he had taken for granted that Laurence would accept his hand in marriage.

She had fought the ugly business over once she had made it quite clear that she had no intentions of leaving the service any sooner than she felt her duty to England fulfilled, but his intimate way of making conversation at dinner had proven her wrong. 

“I’m capable of surviving an uncomfortable situation once in a while, pray do not fret.”

“Certainly you haven’t changed your mind about his proposal?”, her mother sounded offended at the mere notion.

People assumed a great many things about Lady Allendale, her having a weak spot for her rebellious daughter wasn’t one of them.

It had been her mother who had got her acquainted with the necessary officers to ensure her standing in the Navy and she was quite sure that she had also persuaded her father to the alleged adoption of her ‘cousin’.

A neat way to save the family reputation, when once daughter ran off to fight for Britain.

“I do not see how I could accept now, even if I wanted to.”

Which she certainly did not.

“I suspect it wouldn’t be what either of you deserve”, Lady Allendale agreed though she sounded somewhat upset, “But I suppose turning down Captain Reid’s proposal isn’t the only choice influenced by your new circumstances.”

“I can’t say with any honesty that I regret it.”

“Which sets my mind at ease, love.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now pray tell me how is George fairing? I was told we have welcomed another girl into this world.”

“Ah he’s the happiest man in the world”, a fond smile played on her lips, “They named her Scarlett after your great grandmother.”

“Lovely. Is he bound to join you during the hunt come morning?”

“I don’t think so. Elizabeth has only given birth recently and he will most likely stay with her until she has fully recovered.”

Laurence smiled fondly at the implied compliment her mother’s words held. It was an unspoken truth that George was her favourite, though uncommonly close with all her children, her eldest was the one she had to rely upon once their father became incapable of caring for her. Ordinarily Laurence herself might have taken it upon herself to care for her elderly mother but since she was both unwed and unlikely to become fifty years of age as an aviator captain her mother had resigned to become George’s and Elizabeth’s charge.

Not that there was anyone doubting them to be the better fit.

“Willow”, a soft-spoken voice addressed her from the side.

Looking up Laurence found herself eye to eye with Edith, a pang of guild sparking in her chest upon seeing the insecurity in her eyes.

There had been another time, a time were Laurence fancied being capable of leaving Willow behind, embracing all the benefits of a male identity and the position of a Navy captain.

A time in which a playful agreement between two highborn girls had given her unrealistic hopes, which led to Edith accepting an proposal Laurence wasn’t entirely sure she was content with and their relationship strained due to Laurence less vindicatory indiscretions.

She saw the engagement ring gleaming in the candlelight and met a rather insecure expression on Edith’s face.

Rising more out of habit than conscious thought, she bid her mother farewell and followed Edith towards a small group of guests.

Hoping for an opportunity of reassuring Edith’s continued happiness with her new circumstances, the insight on the trap she was led into came too late.

So when Edith was taken aside by Woolvey and Laurence found herself frozen a step or so from the group she had no way of avoiding Jonathan Reid without making a fuss.

“Willow”, he greeted smiling as if she was a particularly lovely night-sky, drawing outraged gazes from the mothers who had fruitlessly attempted to interest him in their daughters.

Laurence resigning to Edith’s betrayal took a stance, put on a pleasant smile and replied politely, “Captain Reid, I apologize on vanishing on you in such a manner, but it has been a terrible long time since I had a private word with my mother.”

“There’s no need for apologies. We are all welcoming the chance to spend at least one evening in your pleasant company, or am I mistaken Lady Barlow?”

By which he addressed an elderly woman to who’s right a young girl was ogling Jonathan with a plain expression of fear.

He was quite a sight to behold, in his crimson coat and all the marks of his station on display. Besides those obvious indicators of influence, Jonathan was a handsome man, tall and broad chested - even though Laurence could match him in height – with chestnut locks and forest green eyes.

She knew very well why she had taken a liking to him, smart and unconventional as he was but she was also aware that a great deal of what she admired most, likely would intimidate a young woman unaccustomed to the life of a military man.

She had met too many of the wives of her fellow officers and later on captains to believe a young, inexperienced woman could handle what the war left of a man, impartial if he had been forced or chosen to leave the service. Only a selected group of men managed to live as they ought to, being gentleman and soldier at once. Certainly many pretended to hold on to those ideals but not many actually succeeded, and she had seen her fair share of bruises as consequence.

Therefor she could not blame Lady Barlow’s daughter for freezing like a startled deer at the sight of a seasoned Marine Captain.

Lady Barlow clearly didn’t share her daughter’s sentiment, “Certainly Captain. Miss Laurence may I inquire on your health?”

Which led to a lengthy discussion of the difficulties of sea voyages for a Lady, which Jonathan pretended to enjoy and enthusiastically participate in, a circumstance highly suspicious to Laurence until she spied the musicians tuning their instruments.

And presently before any other young woman might try to steal him away Jonathan offered her the opening dance, “If the Lady might grant me this pleasure”, he added with one of those smiles that had her swooning during their first months together.

Allowedly they had been cramped onto the _Shorewise_ and she had been pretending to be a man but knowing that this smile originally could never be aimed at her hadn’t made it any less appealing and now that it once more did, she found herself in the middle of the small dancing floor before she had regained her senses.

As it had become fashion, the opening dance in Wollaton Hall was a waltz, which left Laurence with nothing to do but allowing Jonathan to shuffle her across the floor.

He wasn’t a particularly good dancer, probably because their relationship had allowed them the indecency of Laurence leading during their secret meetings were dancing might have been one of the more proper occupations.

“Still afraid I might step on your toes?”, Jonathan jested looking rather smug, since – to Laurence great surprise - he had done no such thing fuss far.

Their conversation was a rather scandalously casual one, unsurprising, considering that a great deal of their relationship consisted of sneaking off to dark corners under the constant risk of someone discovering them and therefor Laurence secret.

“Rather so, since I’m not wearing my boots”, she replied dryly, still trying to adjust to the uncomfortable sensation of letting Jonathan dictate their pace.

“I must admit that I quite enjoy seeing you in a dress.”

“And I suppose seeing me in blue instead of green.”

His expression darkened, “I was paying you a compliment.”

“You are wasting time.”

For a moment she feared, he would just freeze mid dance, but he knew better and resigned to looking wounded, “Do you really consider this a waste of time?”

“There’s a twenty-ton dragon waiting for me ten minutes from here. If there was anything before. There is nothing I can offer you now.”

“You could withdraw from service. My intentions haven’t changed, and I already have the estate, I could take leave, we could renovate it”, a cocky smile appeared on his lips, “I will even let you pick the tapestries.”

Laurence didn’t even bother to smile, “Is there enough space for a heavy-weight dragon? Could you support feeding Temeraire?”

“You expect me to care for the beast?”

“You expect me to leave him behind?”

“He is his Majesty’s dragon. I suppose you would just pass him on to another handler.”

If she hadn’t been wearing a dress, she might have not been able to swallow the urge to punch him. How dare he talk of Temeraire as if he was less than a horse? Something you left in some stable to rod once you got bored of caring for it.

“What makes you think I would do such a thing.”

“There is no future in being an aviator! As a Navy Captain you could at least uphold some resemblance of decency but wasting your life on a beast like that?

What prospects do you have? What will you do once you are too old to humour that thing? You won’t have a husband to…”

“Call Temeraire a _thing_ one more time and I will demand satisfaction. And trust me I am still the better shot in this dress.”

Her voice was fierce enough to make iron melt but to her great surprise her anger was met with un unbelievably fondness.

“I love it when your eyes light up like that. As if someone threw sapphires into fire.”

“Oh stuff it.”

“The dance is nearly over. Can we at least try to enjoy it?”

So they reached a parley, using the last steps of the dance to stare at each other like smitten adolescents.

It was when the musicians stopped, and Lady Barlow literally shoved her daughter into their direction, that the door burst open and a man in a bottle-green coat was frantically searching the guests for a familiar face. In disregard of all property Captain Langford stepped farther into the room, to the great dismay of the servants and cried into the sudden silence “Captain Laurence you ought to return to your post, the fucking frogs are up to something.”

Heads turned in amazement, looking for a man who hadn’t been here all evening.

Jonathan looked at her with equal horror and confusion and before Laurence had a minute to think, there were wingbeats, a great impact followed by a booming voice calling, “Pray Laurence hurry there is fighting to be had.”

One of Temeraire’s startingly blue eyes was to be seen through one of the windows, fixing itself upon her. Guests froze mid turn, staring in sheer horror at the dragon right in front of the mansion.

She made her move before anything else might threaten her secret and walked towards Langford, ignoring that Jonathan remained right on her heels.

“If you would care to follow me captain, I fear my _cousin_ hasn’t been able to change in the short period since his arrival.”

“Your cousin Miss?”, Langford asked staring at her like she was a pig spreading wings.

Jonathan bristled a little at the address, but Laurence just unceremoniously grabbed James arm hoping that Temeraire was enough of a distraction to keep most guests from noticing.

Out in the vacant hallways she dropped her grasp on her fellow Captain and instead started to get rid of the pins in her hair.

“Are we bound for Dover, James?”, she inquired.

James looked about to drop dead, “Miss?”, he croaked out miserably.

Laurence dropped her voice a few octaves, repeating her question rather annoyed this time.

“Oh good Lord”, James eyes flickered towards Jonathan who looked, to him, suspiciously unfaced.

“Captain James Langford, may I introduce to you my acquaintance Captain Jonathan Reid. Jonathan welcome my fellow Captain James Langford on Volatilus.”

“Ah”, James croaked out, “I was supposed to deliver you to your post Captain. Though if you would rather take to the air with Temeraire…”, he stopped unsure if he had overstepped some unwritten line, which was uncommon for an aviator until Laurence realized he might still be processing her being a woman while figuring out why Jonathan was aware of it.

Upon reaching the backdoor, she got rid of her dancing shoes, walking towards the open field beyond the gardens barefoot.

“James pray go and fetch Temeraire for me, I would rather not have anyone see me interact with him in this attire.”

“Certainly… Mi… Captain.”

“Do you even have a harness?”, Jonathan demanded, making a point of looking above her head while she tore on the bindings on the back of her dress.

“I left mine on Temeraire’s back, Captain Langford should be able to provide you with another.”

Finally taking pity on her fruitless tearing he took a step forward only to freeze when a small shadow stepped out of the darkness growing rapidly once the light of the house reflected from his greyish blue scales.

Volly swung his head around, his tongue sizzling out before greeting her with a chirping sound clearly carrying joy.

Jonathan didn’t even get the time to adjust to the light-weight before a massive shadow blocked out the light once more and Temeraire descended onto the field forcing Volly to take to the air.

“Laurence! Pray do hurry. Otherwise they might start the fighting without us.”

“Temrer!”, Volly chirped while picking up James.

“Thank you, James. Where are we to rendezvous with our crew?”

“Just fly towards the coastline you can’t miss the fires lit there and if you would be so kind, you may take Captain Reid with you and drop him off with your groundcrew. I suppose I may inform your them that you might require a spare set of trousers?”

“And a coat. I don’t suppose you managed to bring it with your?”, the question was directed of Temeraire.

The dragon flustered a little, “I must have forgotten it in the hurry. I’m afraid you will have to fly in that dress”, though he didn’t sound quite so hurt about that last prospect.


End file.
